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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26912026">Drawn to the mirror in a dull revulsion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxuries/pseuds/luxuries'>luxuries</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lux. Whumptober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gen, Hurt Neil Josten, I Don't Even Know, Identity Issues, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Riko Moriyama is an Asshole, Starvation, Whumptober</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26912026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxuries/pseuds/luxuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil reflects on his time in Evermore.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten &amp; Jean Moreau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lux. Whumptober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>All For The Game random short stories, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Drawn to the mirror in a dull revulsion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? “Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation, from whumptober 2020 babey.<br/>sorry guys gals and pals i just like watching neil suffer &lt;3<br/>content warning for canon typical violence, nothing extreme. Neil displays some disordered eating traits from his time in Evermore, so watch out for that too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn't like Neil needed anyone- he was stronger than that. </p><p>And yet...</p><p>Coming back to Palmetto after his stint at Evermore broke off more of him than he'd like to admit. The sudden familiarity of traveling in twos, the demand to stay together. The punishments that came with being alone. Finding no time to yourself- ever.</p><p>Neil, indescribably, missed it.</p><p>He missed Jean's constant looming presence, the littered French urging him on- telling him to back off. The tug and pull of caring for someone, again. His mother's half lidded gaze as he pours ethanol over her wounds, Jean's soft intake of air when he stitches his skin shut. The domestic nature of alcohol, the vodka tipped needle. The tight lipped silence. The smoke before (skin burning, skin setting up into flames, skin withering away) and the smoke after (the clenched cigarette, the burnt smell of polyester and cotton, another version of him). </p><p>Most of all, he missed the sense of companionship. </p><p>The ball whipping towards Neil, the brief glance to his partner, noting the position of his thumb, how Jean's eyes indicate his next move. Teamwork. Survival. The hand against his back, pushing him forwards when all he wants to do is lay down. Sleep for a little while. Let all the ravens trample over him while he's blissfully unaware. Somewhere else.</p><p>But now he's there. Neil is back in palmetto, in this gray hoodie that smells faintly like Wymack's cologne. In this makeshift bed on the floor, his meager belongings carefully positioned besides his pillow. The threat of violence foreseeably gone, more than he could hope for.</p><p>He's here, and nothing feels okay. He feels raw all over again, an empty canvas. The new traits he had to pick up, the way he spoke, the way he was supposed to dress; all these things that he thought he had under control. </p><p>He was a chimera now, part raven, part fox. All parts wrong.</p><p>Wymack could tell. The older man kept an eye on him at all times; timed his bathroom breaks (sometimes Neil wanted to scream, tear out all the red strands- bleed out this old/new identity), made sure he ate (running on empty had become oddly satisfying), watched him organize and reorganize his duffle (what more can they take, what more can they take).</p><p>Abby would come over, yesterday's leftovers in hand. Smelling of lavender, blonde hair in a neat bun. A warm smile, both daunting and relaxing. They'd eat together, just the three of them. Neil could tell they were uncomfortable, uneasy. They didn't know how to handle Neil; and neither did he. So they sat in silence. They focused on their plates, their cutlery. Neil watched Wymack in the corner of his eye, noting all the shifts in his posture. The odd concerned look thrown his way when Neil would split his food in parallel lines, calculating the calories he had left to spend. Make sure Jean was getting enough. Wondering how much longer he could go with so little food; noticing Riko's cruel gaze as he watches Neil stumble. </p><p>The older man never knew what to do with the remainders on Neil's plate. The carefully arranged, mathematically calculated way he went around eating. The lack of realization, of being in the now. Holding onto old habits for reassurance. Wymack had seen this before, with his own son. Kevin's inner turmoil as he relearned what it meant to be <em>human</em>. </p><p>Neil, however, was something else. </p><p>Neil felt parts of him die, saw the change in the mirror. Saw his pupils go wide, his lips crack. Felt the pounding of his heart as he tried to stand. The embarrassment of being so weak; of having Wymack carry him to the car. Wymack lifting him up and setting him down, being like a child all over again.</p><p>Nothing felt right, not till the foxes trickled in one by one.</p><p>And when they did, Neil had people to latch onto. His family. <em>Just for a little while</em>, he allows himself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title song by coma cinema, thunder.<br/>im not totally satisfied but I dont have a lot of time D: ! hope it's still alright, despite it's length.<br/>Feedback demanded i mean, cough, appreciated.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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